


The Greatest Run

by DangerRollins



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M, Smut, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 22:15:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15253200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerRollins/pseuds/DangerRollins
Summary: Daryl and Rick get a lot more than they'd originally planned to when a supply run gone wrong turns into a supply run gone absolutely right.





	The Greatest Run

"Daryl..." Rick nearly whispered, his eyes scanning the area nervously as he shuffled forward as quietly as possible. "Daryl, this is a bad idea. It's just the two of us here, if something happens, if there's too many of them to handle--"

"We don't have enough gas to go back to the prison and bring the others back to help us, and I'm not so sure we'd be able to get back here even if we could do that. We had a hard enough time gettin' here in the first place." Daryl's gruff voice drifted off as he studied all the windows, narrowed eyes looking for any sign of movement anywhere, but there was none. "We need stuff, and this place has stuff. Don't get no better than that."

"You think an entire hospital is dead empty? Not a single walker in it? Just completely abandoned?" Rick's disbelieving voice made Daryl's eyes narrow even further, and he avoided looking at the man as he moved to peek into another window.

"I never said that. Contrary to what you and everyone else seem to believe, I ain't stupid." He grunted. "I'm just saying the first floor seems empty. It's just the lobby, and don't nothing seem to be lurking around here. The walkers must all be upstairs, and if that's the case, we can handle them bit by bit. No problem."

Rick scoffed at that. No matter what, there was always a problem. It was never as simple as it was supposed to be, and if anybody should know that by now, it was Daryl. "This isn't worth it," Rick mumbled.

"That's a damn lie and you know it," Daryl shook his head, his voice raising slightly in aggravation. They'd been out all day searching for something—anything—to bring back to the prison. They were low in **everything** by now. Food, clothing, medicine, gas, ammo, tools. You name it and they were low in it. It'd been a rough winter and the effects of it were showing now. If they didn't get some supplies soon, they'd be doomed. They didn't have time to nitpick where they did and didn't scout for shit. They hadn't had any luck anywhere all day, mostly just finding small houses and what used to be convenience stores, most of which were completely empty. The only thing of use that they'd found all day was a box of tampons and a packet of seeds. This hospital was the only one for miles and it didn't seem as if it'd been raided by anyone yet. It wasn't the biggest, but it wasn't small either, and it had to have a whole shit ton of useful supplies for them to use. They needed to get what they could get now before some other desperate scavengers came across it. "If you don't wanna go in, that's fine, Rick. I get it. You have a family to get back to. You stay out here and keep watch, I'm gonna go in and grab whatever I can get my hands on."

"You know I'm not gonna let you do that," Rick shook his head quickly, his own voice raising as the control he had of his temper slowly began to fade. He'd been dealing with Daryl all day, and by now he was exhausted and in no mood to deal with the man's tantrums. How Daryl, a generally quiet and to himself man, managed to find something to argue about even if there was seemingly **nothing** at all to argue about was beyond Rick. The man was hard headed and seemed to think he was invincible. All day long he'd been putting himself in overly dangerous predicaments, scaring the shit out of Rick as he did. From taking on five walkers at a time to sneaking off into the woods without letting Rick know where he was going to damn near sliding off a cliff when he'd gotten too close to the edge. He seemed to be A-Ok with possibly dying and that was really starting to piss Rick off. Why didn't this man understand that he was a valuable part of their group? Rick had already lost Lori not too long ago. He couldn't take losing one more person, especially not Daryl.

"You don't **let** me do anything," Daryl spat. "I'm a grown man, I make my own decisions!"

"You're not going in there by yourself! We'll **both** go, and we're gonna go **slow**. We're gonna be smart and we're gonna make sure that we both come out of this alive, okay?"

Daryl scoffed in response and pushed past Rick to head towards the entrance. Something about Rick pissed him off and he just couldn't put a finger on what it was. He blamed it on Rick's charming and naturally authoritative personality, the fact that everyone simultaneously decided the man was in charge of everything and now he thought he had the right to boss him around, and the fact that he was your typical suburban dad, the complete and utter opposite of Daryl in every imaginable way. That wasn't Daryl's issue with Rick, though. Those things really didn't bother him, not as much as they should've and not as much as they would've a long time ago. It was something else, something Daryl couldn't put his finger on, and that was the most annoying thing of all the annoying things about Rick Grimes.

"We're going slow," Rick stated firmly once again as he came up beside Daryl. Daryl nodded once to shut him up and then picked up a nearby brick and threw it at the glass door.

***

Well, they weren't dead yet and Daryl would count that as a win. They'd been in here for what must've been two hours now, doing exactly what Rick said they were gonna do; going slow. They started on the first floor and now they were just getting to the third. Already they'd found enough supplies to last them a couple months. They'd obviously been expecting to find medicine, but they'd also managed to find some other useful items as well. From a pretty nice amount of convenience foods to pillows and blankets to first aid kits and inhalers and bandages to toilet paper. They'd filled up six large bags already, making a few trips down to the car they'd parked in the car park. The back seat was filling up quite quickly.

"It's gettin' dark out, we need to wrap this up. We've got enough to last us a long while, but maybe we can try to find this place again another day. I'm sure if we could run up on it once we could run up on it again." Rick rasped, his hands placed on his hips in his usual stance as he watched Daryl who was picking up some abandoned batteries scattered along the floor.

"Yeah, alright, let's just get two or three more rooms okay?"

Rick nodded silently and left the room, walking into another one nearby. As he started pushing random, somewhat useful items into his bag, he watched out of the corner of his eye as Daryl headed into a new room as well.

Daryl scanned the room quickly before taking one of his arrows and walking over to the bed, a weak looking walker lying underneath it, caught on something, probably, because it didn't move any closer to him. Either that or all the blood on him threw the walker off. He stabbed the thing in the head and shut his eyes tightly as he thought about Rick's voice earlier.

"That could've been me," He'd said, his voice cracking. Whether that was because of his exhaustion or his emotion, Daryl couldn't really tell. He hoped it was due to his exhaustion. "When all this first...Happened. When it started...I was in the hospital. I was alone in there--Other than--" He'd cut himself off there. "I'm lucky I'm here. That could've easily been me." He'd nodded and gestured toward the walker lying on the bed, the one Daryl had just killed.

"Lucky isn't the word." Daryl had told him before walking out.

Daryl stood up with a grunt and began tossing items into his bag. Sheets, pillows, bedpans, random shit, the same random shit they'd been grabbing all day. With all the sheets and blankets they'd managed to find, he was sure that nobody would be cold next Winter. As he thought back to how Beth and Carl and Carol had spent many nights shivering as they curled into balls to stay as warm as they possibly could, he couldn't help but be a tiny bit happy about that. He'd hated walking by their cells and seeing them like that.

When Daryl finally got to the closet and opened the door, the first thing he saw was a ratty old leather belt. It looked as if it would fall apart at any second, parts of it hanging by small threads, barely attached to the rest of it.

Maybe it was because he hadn't cried in years, maybe it was because he was running on thirty minutes of sleep within the last three days, maybe it was because he couldn't even allow himself to fully hate the current situation that he and the rest of the world was in because he knew that his previous situation, before the world went to shit and the dead decided to rise, was even worse than this was and that was an unbearably sad thought, but he cried. He didn't know why, or how, but he cried.

The tears were slipping out of his eyes before he could think about it, and he didn't know what the hell was happening to him at the moment, all he knew was that he was all of a sudden on the floor, sobbing way too loudly, which was pretty dangerous given the circumstances, and now a very concerned Rick Grimes was on the floor with him.

Daryl was damn shocked. He hadn't cried in so damn long he thought he just couldn't anymore. He thought he'd completely lost the ability to cry. Now snot was running down his face, mixed with his salty, fat tears and he realized he was wrong.

"Daryl, what happened? What's wrong?"

Rick asked that question about ten times before Daryl actually realized what was wrong.

His dad had struck him with a belt just like that one a thousand times, before. When he got too mad and said the wrong thing and his dad had to show him who was boss. When he wasn't nice enough to whatever slut his dad brought home, or when he was too nice to them. When he overslept, when he was out too late or when he came back too early, when he ate the last piece of pizza stashed in the fridge or drank the last beer, not because he wanted to but because he was thirsty and he hadn't had anything else to drink in days and he didn't have anything else to eat either. When he looked at his dad the wrong way, when he did too much, said too much, felt too much, showed too much. That damn belt always corrected his wrongdoings. His dad had used it for years, never to keep his britches up, just to strike Daryl until he bled, and if he cried he struck him again and again until he stopped. It was Daryl's own special belt too, it wasn't used on nobody else and for no other reason but to 'teach him how to behave like a man'. Last time he'd seen that belt, it was on its last legs, 'bout like this one.

"Back off me, man." Daryl nearly yelled as he swatted at Rick who was acting like a concerned parent, gripping his cheeks and searching his eyes for an answer and touching every part of him, trying to figure out if he was hurt. "I'm fine, I'm just--I'm not hurt."

"Clearly, you are." Rick drawled. "You wanna tell me what the hell--"

"Nawl, I don't." Daryl grunted. His sobs had subsided, his tears left as quick as they came. All he had to do was wipe his face, catch his breath, and move on.

Rick was silent for a few moments as he sat next to Daryl, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his arms on them. The silence didn't last long enough for Daryl. "When was the last time you...You know..."

It took Daryl a moment to figure out what Rick was getting at but once he did, he narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. The stupid question made him wanna cry again. "You think I'm cryin' over that, man?" He shouted, his temper even worse than earlier. Rick shook his head and rolled his eyes. "No," He muttered. "I just...You're so damn difficult all the time." He growled. "You act like you don't feel shit and then you break down crying out of nowhere. You try to get yourself killed every chance you get like you don't realize we need your ass around here. You...I don't know how to help you. I just know there's one way...One thing that always helps me, if even just a little bit, and--"

"What, did me crying turn you on? Huh? Us battling walkers all day for table scraps and bandages turn you on? Do I look like I'm into guys, boy? That ain't how I was raised."

"I didn't say it was," Rick bit back. "Look, I don't know if it's because I haven't done anything in a while, if it's because I'm losing my fucking mind with all this, if it's because I...I miss Lori..." He took a deep breath before shaking his head. "I miss her so fucking much. I miss touching her, I miss being with her. She was my wife. We fought and...At the end it wasn't--It wasn't right, but she was my wife. It was normal...But I just think...Let me help you feel better."

Daryl imagined his brother and dad were down in hell shouting like some motherfuckers at him, plotting some kinda way to come back to life and kick his ass for even allowing Rick to propose something stupid like this. He couldn't imagine how they'd react to him considering this and he damn for sure couldn't imagine how they'd react to him making the first move.

Daryl hated being touched most of the time, but there was something about Rick. Besides the man's amazing looks, he meant. The man was...He felt safe with him. That was a dumbass thing to feel nowadays because no matter what, you were never safe, but still. If anybody was gonna touch him, it'd be Rick.

Rick was shocked when Daryl wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and brought him in for a rough kiss. He was expecting a punch in the face, not a kiss, but he wasn't complaining.

"We're not fucking," Daryl mumbled against his lips. "And I'm not sucking your dick."

"So I get to suck your dick and then we'll call it a day?" Rick questioned sarcastically. Daryl pulled away from him and narrowed his eyes. "I'll give you a hand job. But if you get an ounce of cum on an inch of me, boy, you're gonna regret it, you got that?"

"I got it," Rick growled before standing up.

"We don't have all day, let's get a move on." Daryl instructed as he yanked his pants down. Rick did the same before sitting back down. He and Daryl stared at each other awkwardly for a few moments before Rick started moving around, trying to find a position where they'd both be able to reach each other without too much strain. Once he was comfortable, Rick got right to work, wrapping his tongue around Daryl's cock with no kind of warning.

Rick would be lying if he said he hadn't given a blowjob or ten in his day. He and Shane grew up together, they each got quite curious at times, shit happens. He'd come to realize he didn't particularly hate having a dick down his throat, but he hadn't had that in a while. He'd married Lori, and well, he'd stayed faithful to her despite what she'd done to him.

Daryl, on the other hand, had never touched any dick that wasn't his own, and it'd been a long damn while since he'd even done that. However, it didn't take him all that long to figure out what Rick liked and what he didn't. For example, when he stroked Rick's cock long and slow or even quick and hasty, he enjoyed it. When he gave his balls a nice squeeze and spit into the palm of his hand before stroking the man's cock again, he **really** liked that. When he dug his dull fingernails into the man's cock briefly, he didn't so much like that.

"What the fuck, Daryl?!" Rick winced before wiping his mouth. "The next time you suggest doing something like this to me right after I'm done crying, I will kill you, son of a bitch," Daryl growled before stroking Rick again.

Rick rolled his eyes and let out a huff before wrapping his mouth around Daryl's cock once again. Daryl, as usual, was relatively quiet, but the few grunts and groans he did let escape his lips brought Rick that much closer to his release. Neither of them was able to hold it for long, given the fact that neither of them had done anything even remotely sexual in who knows how long. Daryl was first to cum. He tried pushing Rick away from him as he reached his release but Rick was more than happy to swallow every ounce of cum that spurted out of his cock. Daryl tasted real nice. Pretty sour actually, but Rick had completely expected it, and it just wasn't a bad taste.

Daryl's stroking sped up as Rick swallowed his cum and just a few seconds later, Rick was grunting, clenching his teeth together, his brows furrowing as he came. Daryl flew up, hopping away from him like he was scared the man's cum was actual poison.

He waited until Rick was seemingly done and then kicked the man only somewhat harshly in the side, causing Rick to wince.

"I told you not to get that shit on me!" Daryl yelled, his face turning red. "Wha—I swallowed your cum, you don't get to be mad at me!" Rick defended. "Besides, I can make it up to you. I know you said no fucking—"

"You're not putting your fucking dick in my ass, Grimes—"

"I didn't say I was!" Rick huffed. "You can...You know..."

Daryl stood there in shock, wondering if Rick had lost his mind, but he didn't wanna question it. If it wasn't for the shuffling of feet and the low groans getting louder and louder, right outside the door, he would've surely given Rick what he wanted.

"Next time," Rick seemingly read his mind. "We're lucky none showed up while we were going at it."

"Next time." Daryl sighed.


End file.
